


The Pro-active Strategy

by Swifters



Series: David [2]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Past Rape/Non-con, Past hurt Danny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 13:32:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3652212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swifters/pseuds/Swifters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU mild slash ending for 'David'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pro-active Strategy

**Author's Note:**

> OK, so ‘David’ was always intended to be bromance not romance. However, although it’s still all about the bromance for me, I have discovered I really like some of the slash stories on here so I thought why the hell not have a wee go….. 
> 
> So...this mild slashy AU epilogue follows directly on after the intended epilogue…it just kinda flowed and totally stuck in my head. 
> 
> You don't really need to read David too, but it would likely make more sense if you did.

A PRO-ACTIVE STRATEGY.

An AU slash ending to 'David'.

 

Danny woke up some time later and realised he’d slept through half the movie. More than that in fact. There was an entirely different movie on now, indistinguishable from the first but for the different actors playing out the same range of predictable roles. Steve’s taste in movies was highly questionable.

Steve’s arm was still around his shoulders, but he’d turned his body in towards him a little more, his free hand resting loosely on Danny’s thigh. It didn’t bother Danny. Not a bit. He sighed contentedly, feeling warm and safe. It should be weird, a grown man being cuddled by his best friend on the sofa. It wasn’t.

Steve sighed and his hand slid over a little, coming to rest on Danny’s groin. Danny raised an eyebrow then smirked, knowing Steve must have fallen asleep too. He wondered absently if he was dreaming. Then he realised with a start that he wasn’t freaking out. He wasn’t freaking out about the fact it was Steve touching him, which wasn’t surprising in itself given he’d always carried a bit of a very secret thing for the guy, but, more importantly, he wasn’t freaking out about the fact he was being touched full stop.

The whole concept of any sexual contact whatsoever had filled him with horror ever since professional fruitloop David Abrahams had kidnapped him and subjected him to 5 days of torture and a series of horrendous sexual attacks several months earlier.

The psychiatrist who’d been inflicted on him during his recovery had forced him to unpick the delights of his experiences to identify the key issues he’d been left dealing with. He’d come up with pro-active strategies intended to help Danny come to terms with said medley of issues and reduce the ways they impacted on his life.

Steve had fucking loved that. Pro-active strategizing was like porn to him. He’d bounced around like an eager puppy when he was presented with a list of constructive ways to help, came up with a whole pile of extra crap no one had asked for, then poked and prodded Danny into sucking it up and getting on with doing as he was told. And Danny could reluctantly admit the Grand Plans were kinda working. He was getting somewhere, tackling each issue one carefully-planned step at a time. And now…intense claustrophobia….less intense (tick). Random people standing too close to him….more bearable (tick). And so on.

But then there was the sex thing. The idea of those noises, those scents, the whole thrusting thing, that intimate contact. It was too much. There was no strategy in place for that as yet. It had been put to one side to worry about later. Much later. Like never if he could help it. Who really needed sex anyway?

He’d told Amber (No, Melissa. No, Amber. Whatever. She’d always be Amber to him.) to move on when he’d failed to get his shit together enough to touch her again, or to let her touch him, or even think too much about the whole touching thing at all, for suck’s sake, after a couple of months. She said it didn’t matter, bless her, but it really really did.  She was a wonderful girl who’d had a terrible time. She deserved someone straightforward, who she could marry and have kids with, live her life. He didn’t want her to wait for him yet again. He didn’t regret his decision, not for a second, although he missed her sunny smile sometimes.

They kept in touch. She’d met some guy already. A fireman called Brad. Stupid name. Chin had checked the guy out for him and he was an upstanding, bravery award littered, all American hero. Tall too. Danny wasn’t jealous. Not at all. Honestly.

But he knew, really, somewhere deep down, he had to face the sex thing sooner or later. He had to sort himself out so he wouldn’t have to let another opportunity for potential happiness go by him. At this rate he’d be ready to try to have sex again roundabout when he was too old to actually manage it.

He glanced at Steve’s hand again. It was still resting innocently enough on his cock….and he still didn’t panic. A pro-active strategy formed loosely in his head. Dr Overpriced Psychiatrist would be delighted. Steve would be ecstatic (or not, if he knew the content of said pro-active strategy). Maybe….just maybe if he could _think_ about some very mild sex-type stuff without freaking out that would be a positive baby step. A start. Then he could graduate on to Step 2 which could be……no. Too much. Too scary. Step 1 first.

Extending a challenge to himself, he took a deep breath and settled back against Steve, feeling his steady heartbeat, his slow breaths. He shut his eyes, making himself concentrate on that hand, making himself picture it doing more than just resting there. He felt his pulse rise instantly, memories threatening to bubble to the surface. His eyes snapped open. He took a few deep, calming breaths, matching his own breathing to Steve’s. Nothing could hurt him here, he reminded himself. Nothing he didn’t want to happen would happen. He let himself be calmed again by his friend’s presence. He loved Steve. He trusted him and he knew he could rely on him in every way. Had even flirted with him a little through the years, mostly in jest. Never really took it too seriously- what was the point? Nothing would ever happen with his straighter than straight partner. He could cope with that, he’d come to terms with it. It was fine.

He closed his eyes again. Steve shifted a little and Danny froze, concerned he might wake and somehow read Danny’s thoughts, then recoil in disgust. But he settled again with a contented sigh. Danny moved his mind back to that hand. He imagined it stroking him, pressing his dick just gently, teasing with the promise of more to come.

That seemed OK this time. No flashbacks, no burning desire to vomit. Not wanting to run before he could walk, he deliberately took a moment to repeat his comforting mantra. He was safe, he was with Steve, David was dead. It was Steve’s hand and Steve would never hurt him. Steve loved him, he loved Steve.  He was safe. Then he pressed on, pushing himself. No pain no gain.

He visualised that big hand, Steve’s hand that would never hurt him, pulling open his trousers, releasing his dick. His pulse rose again, but not in a bad way this time. In fact, quite the opposite- he felt himself getting harder for the first time in a disturbingly long while and a low moan escaped his lips before he could stop it.

He was gripped by a moment of panic, fear that his friend would wake up and notice. He had to stop. He shouldn’t be using Steve this way when he was asleep, trusting him blindly. Guilt hit him, overtaking his momentary triumph. He lifted his hand, meaning to move Steve’s gently away from his groin.

Then Steve pressed the heel of his hand into his dick, making him gasp. A soft voice murmured in his ear. “I got you. Shut your eyes.”

…………………………………………………………………..

When Steve awoke with his hand on Danny’s dick he was mortified. He’d been having a dream about, well, OK, about Danny as per usual, but that was beside the point. They didn’t do that kind of thing. Even if they had done, it was so far from what Danny needed after what that bastard had put him through it wasn’t even funny.

Attempting damage control he feigned continued sleep, meaning to withdraw his hand slowly with a subtle shifting-in-his-sleep type move, ideally without waking his partner. Then he realised Danny’s dick was swelling, getting harder. Danny shifted, moaning softly.

Suddenly unsure what to do, Steve chanced a glance through narrowed eyes and saw…. Danny was awake! His eyes were open- he knew Steve’s hand was on his groin and he wasn’t protesting or pushing it away…he was getting off on it! Wasn’t he?

What the hell did that mean?! Could he have not-just-buddy feelings for Steve too? Was it possible after all these years….oh wait, no. He realised what it was without a shadow of doubt. No, of course it didn’t mean Danny wanted him like that. Danny- brave, damaged Danny-  was using Steve’s slip as an opportunity to challenge himself, to try to do battle with one of the neuroses Abrahams had kindly left him with. There was an uninvited hand on his cock and he wasn’t letting himself panic, instead he was going with it, no doubt imagining the hand was attached to Amber or some similarly hot chick rather than to his large and very male partner. And knowing the man as he did, the guilt for using Steve like that would kick in roundabout……now.

“Fuck it” he thought. He had helped Danny through everything else, he was damn well going to help him with this too. The concept of Steve touching him obviously wasn’t disgusting him outright which was….unexpected. Hurdle one cleared.

He saw Danny’s hand move towards his, knew the window of opportunity was about to close, he had to act. He mentally braced himself then pressed on his partner’s dick, gently and firmly, whispering reassurance in his ear at the same moment.

For a heart-stopping moment Danny froze, god knows what going through his head. Steve gritted his teeth, more than half expecting a full blown freak-out possibly accompanied by physical violence. In that instant Steve had time for a flash of regret- too much, wrong time, soooo inappropriate, damaging further not helping, destroying friendship…….but then Danny relaxed back against him, breath quickening a touch. The green light. Steve blinked in surprise and relief.

And now Steve knew he had to be careful, so careful. He knew what that man had done, knew how vulnerable Danny really was. The astonishing level of trust Danny was offering him brought a lump to his throat and he was almost scared to start to touch him again, to do the wrong thing at the wrong moment and make it all worse. The responsibility was huge and he really, really hadn’t thought this through.

But, damn it, if Danny was up to the challenge, so was he. So he started to rub the solid bulge in those beautifully tailored pants with the heel of his hand, keeping up the firm, gentle pressure. His arm was still around Danny’s shoulders but he resisted the urge to tighten his grip, he couldn’t risk him feeling restrained.

Up and down, up and down. Steve closed his eyes, resting his head on the back of the couch, his desire to press his forehead against his friend and kiss him softly unfulfilled. Couldn’t risk his hot breaths against Danny’s face, his neck. Abrahams had done that. Not for the first time, Steve was glad he’d forced himself to go through the hell of watching the recordings that deviant bastard had made of the things he had done to Danny. Sure they gave him endless nightmares, but if meant he could save Danny from a few moments of unnecessary distress here and there, it was worth it.

Up and down, up and down. Danny shifted a little, uncomfortably restricted, and Steve went for it, deftly flicked his button open, unzipping his fly and pulling his boxers clear of his dick. He took a deep breath, resisting the urge to look. Instead he spat on his hand before returning to the task, grasping Danny’s cock round the base and sliding his hand slowly, smoothly to the head. Danny gasped, pushing his head back into Steve’s shoulder, hard.

Steve felt like he was walking a tightrope. He felt Danny beginning to tremble. “You’re OK buddy,” he murmured, “We’re good. Just picture whoever you want to picture. Relax and breathe.”

He worked Danny’s cock with firm, steady strokes, nothing fancy, keeping it simple. He felt himself getting hard and turned his hips further away from his friend, not wanting to risk Danny falling into flashback from knowing there was another erection in his airspace. And not wanting Danny to know he _wanted_ him. He tried not to think too much about the cock in his hand, its shape, its girth, how good it felt. He concentrated on his task, on doing everything _right._

Danny moaned in pleasure, making Steve smile a sly, secret smile. Then “God, Steve.” was huffed out, making Steve…making him. OK, making his brain melt a bit. Danny wasn’t picturing some hot chick. Danny was right there with him. He clamped down on that thought, trying to stop any crazy emotional reaction. It meant nothing. Danny was a mess, he was just losing himself in the moment.

But then Danny twisted round towards him and pressed a hot, heavy kiss to the side of Steve’s carefully averted face. And no way could Steve leave him hanging after a crossing-the-line (albeit a really weird, blurry, rapidly shifting line) gesture like that. Steve’s hastily thrown-together plan to provide a detached, safe service to ease Danny back into the world of sex disintegrated as he ducked his head to pursue Danny’s lips, catching them in an electrifying, breathy kiss, a kiss to decimate the memory of all first kisses that had gone before it.

“Fuck!” Danny’s exclamation was of shocked pleasure, not horror.

Steve gasped incoherently, fighting to keep control of himself. He gave in to the most innocent of his urges and rested his forehead against Danny’s as his hand kept the momentum going. His hot breath combined with Danny’s now and Steve watched his face intently, braced for any signs of distress.  He saw none. Danny was panting along with him, eyes blazing into his, moaning and unable to keep still, getting close, his expression the live version of any one of a number of fantasies Steve had had over the years.

“I got ya. Let go.” Steve rasped and hell if Danny didn’t do what he was told. He came, hard, crying out in pleasure as Steve gave to his own desires by degrees, tightening his arm around him, pressing wanton kisses to his face. Then it was over. Danny sagged in his embrace, panting hard, eyes shut. Steve wiped his hand on a random cushion (not one of Gracie’s pink, fluffy contributions, of course- that would have been soooo wrong), not wanting to have to shift Danny to go find something more appropriate for the job.

Then realisation hit Steve, followed rapidly by stomach-churning nerves. He had just inadvertently shown all of his long-hidden cards and, for all Danny had reciprocated in the moment, fuck only knew how he was going to react when the pumping endorphins receded. Stupid stupid stupid. Stupid. Fuck. Stupid. Steve closed his eyes tight, resisting the temptation to smack himself in the face.

But when he finally plucked up the courage to look down at his partner’s face, those blue eyes were wide open, looking right at him. The man was hiding from nothing, regretting nothing. He looked blissed out, astonished, kinda shocked and…happy? Then Danny’s hand slid across his waist, meandering down to rest on his still-hopeful erection.

Steve blinked a few times, trying to absorb the rapid and entirely unexpected shift in their relationship. “You don’t have to..”

“I know” Danny cut in. “But I’ve always wanted to. I just didn’t know before that you….”

Steve grinned a megawatt lopsided grin. “Always have.” Then his smile wavered. “Just….just remember you don’t have to OK? It’s cool. I’ve…..I’ve waited years for this, I can wait some more. No pressure.”

Danny gave him a serious look, “If anything can get that bastard out my head, it’s doing _this_ with _you._ ” He smiled, then started pulling at Steve’s belt with absolute conviction.

And no way was Steve gonna argue with that logic. “Hey, am I your new pro-active strategy?” he asked huskily, beaming at the concept like he’d just won a million dollars.

Danny grinned back, rolling his eyes. “I swear, only you could make that sound sexy. OK, we’ll go with that if it floats your boat. Now shut the hell up and let me try Step 2…”


End file.
